


Farm Team

by LiquidCaliban



Series: Families of Choice [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21403228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidCaliban/pseuds/LiquidCaliban
Summary: Steve meets the Bartons.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Series: Families of Choice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542994
Comments: 19
Kudos: 134





	Farm Team

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The usual non-ownership jibber jabber that carries no legal merit but still acknowledges that I’m just borrowing the intellectual properties of others for purposes of non-financially beneficial entertainment.
> 
> Spoilers: Takes place after TWS and before AoU, when the Avengers are Avengering ‘round the world, avenging the average Hydra avenues of averseness. So spoilers through AoU, is the answer to that. Plus my fic ‘Auntie’ that I wrote, which is linked in the little series dealie.
> 
> Pairings: Established Romanogers, because I can. And the Barton family, because while having an Auntie Nat is awesome, the kids will surely benefit from having an Uncle Steve as well.

Steve unclipped and pulled off his helmet, running a fingerless-gloved hand through his sweaty hair. Although they hadn’t found Loki’s scepter in the fortified Hydra compound the team had just destroyed, a whole lot of angry commandos and Hydra trainees had been there to defend the base. On the plus side, it seemed as if they’d managed to eliminate a major training center on only their third mission against Hydra since the fall of SHIELD. He was satisfied with the day’s work, in spite of how tired he felt.

He was just sinking into a seat when Stark called out from the pilot’s chair of the quinjet, “Buckle up, kids. There’s an angry Russian threatening me on the radio and for once it’s not Romanoff.”

Natasha looked up from where she was still crouched and murmuring with a shirtless, blanket-wrapped Banner to say, “It’s Uzbek, not Russian. And they’re not even talking about us. You’re listening to their police band while they try to figure out why the so-called canned food factory exploded. They won’t even notice us if your new stealth tech is as good as you claim.”

“Even better than normal, then,” Stark replied, slamming the jet into an ascent that was probably meant to make a point.

Steve watched with a frown as she turned back to Banner, steadying herself with a hand on the bulkhead just over his shoulder. For some reason, the Hulk responded less aggressively when Natasha rather than anyone else approached him calmly, so they were developing a system for helping him revert to being Banner when the Hulk was no longer needed. Stark had nicknamed it ‘the lullaby.’ Steve was absolutely _not_ jealous; or, he definitely wouldn’t be once they got back to the Tower and he had Natasha all to himself. He grinned for a moment before he noticed that Barton was looking at him warily. He gave the archer a nod and started tugging off his gloves.

Mjolnir suddenly clanged against the floor as Thor flopped down in the seat beside him. “Another glorious battle ends in victory, yet we slink away under the cover of stealth.”

Steve shrugged, still watching Natasha with Banner. “True, but maybe we’ll get a clue about the scepter from the computer files we, um, extracted.” Barton and Natasha had both plugged similar devices into tall, black towers of electronic thingies with multiple blinking lights in a particular room in the compound. Steve still wasn’t entirely clear on how the process of digital data mining worked, but he’d certainly seen the impressive results with regard to intelligence since he’d been out of the ice. He suddenly realized that Thor was still looking at him, so he added, “And we did wipe out a Hydra training center.”

“Indeed. Our success was complete. I still feel we should be celebrated for destroying those responsible for so much evil on your world.”

“The locals might not agree with you,” Natasha said as she finally took her seat on Steve’s other side. “Hydra may be an international terrorist organization, but they do provide employment for some vulnerable classes and support the regional economy. Even terrorists have to eat and, based on how long they’ve been operating some of these facilities, they’ve had to maintain good relationships with local governments and residents. Throw enough money at people and they’re willing to overlook a lot.”

“The timeless art of bribery,” Stark called back.

Thor harrumphed to himself before grumbling, “We shall have to celebrate for ourselves when we return to our Tower.”

“Hopefully Tony’s well-stocked, because I decided not to liberate any Uzbek vodka. That stuff is just…odd.” Natasha leaned into Steve as she patted his thigh. “Got a little hot there for a while. You okay?”

“Fine.” He had a few cuts and bruises, but he estimated that his most obvious injuries would be mostly healed by the time she saw enough of them to know he was equivocating. “How about you?”

“Nothing like a good workout, though I may have bruised my knuckles on that body armor.” She flexed her hands somewhat gingerly. “At least it was a lot more conductive than Kevlar.”

He had to agree that he’d seen more than one Hydra goon shuddering with the blue shocks of a Widow’s Bite. He still didn’t want her suffering. “Maybe you should have some padding in your gloves.” He carefully raised one of her hands to his lips and softly kissed a purpling blotch on her skin.

She blushed, just a slight pinkening of her cheeks, but he recognized it as a huge tell for her. Five months into their relationship and she was still demonstrating that public displays of affection made people very uncomfortable; given what had originally followed that statement, he found it endlessly endearing that she was just like ‘people’ in at least one way. He thought back to the moment he had made the most frightening yet best decision of his life, standing in the cemetery over Nick Fury’s false grave, clutching Bucky’s Soviet file. After a moment of agonizing indecision, he had thrust the file at Sam and taken off running, catching Natasha just before she’d gotten to her car. She had been visibly surprised when he’d grabbed her, but the kiss he’d pressed to her lips had frozen her with what she’d later explained as shock. He’d been about to pull back and start running in the opposite direction when she’d seized his jacket and shown him exactly what practice could get you.

He smiled to himself at the memory as he brushed his lips against the bruise again. She pulled her hand back, though she didn’t seem annoyed. “Quit it.”

“I’m trying to make it better.” He grabbed her other hand and repeated the gesture. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I seem to remember you saying my mouth was magic.”

“Steve!” She folded her arms, tucking her hands behind her elbows. “Behave.”

“He is quite chivalrous, you must admit,” Thor commented, grinning broadly and slapping Steve on the back hard enough to knock him forward. “Nearly as gallant as an Asgardian Lord.”

Steve bobbed his eyebrows. “See? I’m like a lord!”

“Sure you are,” she replied with a roll of her eyes and a peck on his lips. From somewhere in the back of the jet, Clint gave a snort that almost sounded derisive. If Steve hadn’t been so focused on Natasha, he probably would have missed the brief flash of anger in her eyes. Whatever it was about, it resulted in him getting a long kiss that he didn’t think was entirely about him. After it ended, he noticed that Clint was stretched out across some seats, his back to them. At least kissing Natasha was as amazing as ever.

* * *

Steve stepped out of his bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his hips and discovered that Natasha had already let herself into his suite. She was wearing comfortable looking stretchy pants, a t-shirt and a hoodie as she lounged on her side of his massive bed, playing with her tablet. It wasn’t entirely surprising, as this where they spent most nights in the Tower. Though they had yet to move in together on a permanent basis, she still kept some of her things in her own rooms. A significant amount of clothing and toiletries had been permanently relocated to his. He wasn’t sure when to bring up the idea of moving _all _of her stuff in, he just knew that he wanted to.

Flopping down, he had to roll over to get close enough to slip an arm around her. “How’d you shower so fast?”

“Dried my hair, too.” She didn’t look away from her tablet, but the corner of her mouth twitched up slightly. “Probably had time because I didn’t stop to flirt with Maria.”

He chuckled as his hand found the gap between her t-shirt and leggings, the skin there warm against his fingertips. “Well, the after-action report she had me review about the Hydra base we just blew up _was_ pretty titillating. She named multiple politicians and Uzbek media sources that were speculating about the incident outside Tashkent.”

Rather than respond to his teasing as she normally would (either a joke about how _she _would have flirted shamelessly with Maria or a hard turn toward geopolitics), she said, “Tony messaged us. Everybody’s meeting upstairs to party in a few minutes, but Clint said he wants to talk to you first.”

Steve pulled his hand out from under her shirt and flipped onto his back. “Is this so he can explain why he’s been giving me the evil eye for the past few weeks?”

“Something like that.” To his surprise, she was suddenly lying against him, holding him around his waist. “Don’t let him scare you, okay?”

“Um…sure?”

“He’s just…he wants to talk to you.”

Catching on slightly, Steve tried to clarify, “About us?”

“That, and…I really should let him tell you. I just don’t want you to think he’s trying to say anything on my behalf, okay? Anything I want you to know about us, I’ll be the one to tell you. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Such a good soldier.” She nuzzled into his neck, her lips dragging along his sensitive, freshly shaved skin. Her fingers traced along the top of the towel still somehow secure around him. “Gonna stand at attention for me?”

He swallowed hard, willing himself to stay calm. “Definitely will later. Right now, I thought that Clint was…”

A knock on the door of the suite proved enough to settle him down. Natasha slipped out of bed and shot him a wink. “Get dressed. You’ll do fine.”

He carefully dressed in neatly pressed trousers and a plaid collared shirt, just in case this was going to be some weird, formal ‘tell me your intentions with my sister’ thing, but the fact that he emerged into the living room to find Natasha and Clint practically hissing at each other as they argued in indistinct voices didn’t seem encouraging. They both quieted as he cleared his throat, Natasha smiling at him while Clint leaned against the back of the couch with an angry sort of indifference. Steve forced himself not to look at the other man as Natasha walked up to him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips with a whispered, “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he breathed back, watching her as she left his suite, hips gently swaying and a quick smirk over her shoulder as she closed the door, before turning back to face Clint. “So. You want to talk to me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He pushed himself off the couch and walked over to Steve. Their height difference was more apparent as Clint looked up at him pugnaciously. “Why don’t we have a seat, huh?”

“Sure.” Steve carefully perched on the edge of the couch while Clint took the chair to his left.

Clint leaned back and tapped his fingers against the armrest for a good thirty seconds before saying, “Look, before we get down to brass tacks, I need to know something.”

“Um, anything.” Steve suddenly remembered that he was talking to a spy of Natasha’s caliber and added, “Within reason, obviously.”

“Right.” Clint’s expression shifted between a smile and a grimace about half a dozen times in the second before he said, “Look, I know you and Nat have been, uh, hooking up for a few months now…”

“Dating,” Steve corrected, as even he understood the casual implications of ‘hooking up.’ “We’ve been dating for five months.”

“Yeah, right, dating.” Clint took a drink from a bottle of whiskey that Steve hadn’t noticed before. “You do know that dating means more than just, like, fucking, right? I know you’re not totally caught up on modern stuff, but dating is like courting or wooing or…was this all the same in the ‘40s or…you get what I’m saying, right?”

“You want to know details about my relationship with Natasha?”

“Not _details_ details, but, I mean…do you guys even _do_ stuff other than sex?”

“Of course!”

Clint looked skeptical. “Such as?”

“Well, we have dinner together and watch movies all the time and we talk a lot and train together and…look, we don’t usually go out because getting recognized could ruin the night, but…” Steve’s indignation overpowered his instinct to protect his and Natasha’s privacy as he continued, “We’ve gone to see shows on Broadway a few times. She really liked _If/Then_. We’ve been to a few museums on the…uh, down low.” Clint’s lack of reaction seemed to indicate that Steve had used the appropriate phrasing, so he got more confident as he said, “Oh, and Nat’s friends with a stage manager at Lincoln Center so we can sneak into performances of the New York City Ballet pretty much whenever she wants. I think we’re going to the opera or symphony next week if we’re not called out. And…”

“Uh-huh, so you do cultural appreciation, snooty shit together,” Clint cut him off with a dismissive wave. He took another long drink, the green bottle catching the light just so as he lowered it. “Not what I really care about.” There was no evidence of inebriation when he stared into Steve’s eyes with his preternaturally confident aim. “D’ya love her?”

Steve didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”

“She know?”

“Yes.”

Clint drank again before nodding as he relaxed back into the chair. “Okay, then.”

“Uh…” Steve could hardly believe the conversation was over and readied himself for a physical attack., tensing and raising his arms. “Okay?”

“Yeah. You love her, she loves you. And no, she didn’t say anything to me, but…come on. It’s fucking obvious. The important thing is you both know. So what’s not clear? I mean, I’ll nail you to the ground with railroad ties and remove your vertebrae one by one if you ever hurt her, but…I’m not trying to come between you. I just want to make sure you’re gonna treat her right.”

Steve would have laughed if Clint wasn’t staring at him so pointedly. “Barton, do you really think we’d be together if Nat wasn’t totally sure about it?”

“Hey, I know her well enough to know that she doesn’t open up to just anyone. But I also know that she isn’t the best at admitting her mistakes on the rare occasions she makes them. You can’t hold it against me if I’ve got questions when she’s suddenly all about some nearly perfect dude she was assigned to work with, right?”

Steve took a moment to consider the facts. It was true that, at Nick Fury’s order, he’d spent more time with Natasha than any other woman since he’d woken up in the 21st century. But, there was no other woman he’d met that he would have preferred to spend time with. Given an entire array of beautiful actresses and models and SHIELD employees he’d been introduced to (many of whom had been _very_ clear about their interest), he’d still gravitated toward Natasha. She had been the only one to hold his attention and she was the person he respected most, regardless of how many impressive women he’d met. “I love her, Clint. No matter what, I love her. You can threaten me all you want, but that’s not gonna change.”

Clint seemed to reflect before hitting his bottle again. After he’d swallowed, he grinned. “So, if that’s actually the case, we’re gonna expect you out at the farm sometime soon for a visit.”

“Farm? You and Natasha have a farm?” Steve ran through the ciphers he’d memorized in his head. “Or is farm some kind of code?”

Clint laughed raucously. “You might not be so bad, Rogers. We should get upstairs before Stark sends out a search party.”

They got into the elevator without another word about the supposed farm and there was no further mention of the conversation for the rest of the night. The liberal flow of liquor prevented Steve from getting further clarification on it as the evening progressed, though he was mostly distracted by the intoxication achieved via Thor’s Asgardian mead and the increasingly amorous advances of an inebriated, handsy Natasha.

* * *

Steve knew that his mouth was hanging open, but he wasn’t quite sure how to remedy it as he stared at the white clapboard farmhouse and surrounding buildings and fields surrounded by rail fences. Was that…was that a cow? More than one cow? And horses? He squinted toward the fence. Goats? Freaking goats?

“Don’t worry about it,” Natasha said as she turned off the engine of the little beater car he wasn’t entirely convinced she hadn’t stolen from the abandoned garage where they’d left their other car, following several flights and more than one vehicle exchange. “The first time Clint brought me here, I thought he was intending to assassinate me right up until we actually got here and Cooper staked a claim on me as his new action figure playtime buddy.”

She had shared bits and pieces about their destination during their multiple short commercial flights (plus one between major airports that may have just been a guy with a Cessna and a preference for cash over questions), then offered a full confession about the existence of the Barton family at the carefully guarded farm during their final drive, but Steve still didn’t feel like he was prepared for the reality of Clint Barton’s farm. There was a house and a barn and fields containing many animals and some kind of cage and a fence holding in God knew what besides cows and… Natasha went on, “I know it seems like some weird _Children of the Corn _hallucination when you get here, but I promise it’s real. Clint has an actual family, with a wife and kids and,” she actually relaxed into her seat as she smiled and sighed, “they’re totally amazing.”

He threw the car door open, just in case that would show a glitch in the Matrix (they’d watched that movie together, then she’d distracted him with a blowjob when he’d expressed interested in watching the sequels). The house remained unchanged for a moment before the front screen door opened. “So you’re saying we’re really…” The appearance of a child on the porch made the rest of his question moot.

The little girl, who couldn’t be more than four or five years old, turned and shouted over her shoulder, “It’s Auntie Nat! Auntie Nat’s here!” Then she charged directly down the steps for the driver’s side of the car, where Natasha swept her up in a hug.

To Steve’s shock, Natasha’s next move didn’t involve an impressive throw or body-slam as she held the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s that little creep at preschool been treating you?”

“I got a time out for telling him his wee-wee was stupid and would never work right, but he hasn’t bothered me since! I didn’t even have to kick him!”

“Good.” She set the girl down, though they were still holding hands. “Do you want to meet my friend?”

“Yeah!”

Steve still had enough self-awareness to squat to make himself less intimidating as Natasha led the girl around the car. “Steve, this is Lila. Lila, this is my friend Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” Lila said before throwing her arms around his neck.

He was almost frozen for a moment before he remembered his manners and hugged her back gently. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila.”

“You smell nice!” she proclaimed as she let go. “Mommy, Auntie Nat’s friend Steve smells really nice!”

Steve looked up to see that a brunette had appeared on the porch, along with Clint and a dark-haired little boy. Although the adults were both smiling, the boy was next to approach. He eyed Steve up and down before asking, “You’re really Captain America?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” He wondered if he was expected to flex or something and glanced toward Natasha, who gestured for him to go on. “You can call me Steve, though. If you want.”

“I’m Cooper,” the boy replied, again giving Steve a once-over with his eyes, though he held out his hand for a weak shake this time. “But…you’re really Captain America? Like, _r__eally_ really?”

“He really is,” Natasha said, ruffling Cooper’s hair as she passed to greet the woman on the porch.

Cooper remained glued in place, fixated on him. “So, could you, like, pick up our tractor?”

Temporarily lost without Natasha’s guidance, Steve defaulted to nonsense. “Um, uh, I’ve never tried to pick up a tractor. Maybe I could?”

“Neat. Can I try your shield?”

“I didn’t bring it with me. Sorry.”

“Oh.”

Steve went out on a limb. “Maybe next time?”

Cooper immediately brightened. “Awesome. You like cheeseburgers?”

“They’re my favorite.” Steve maintained his smile as he was briefly introduced to Clint’s wife Laura and led to an already hot grill on the patio in back of the house where some patties were sizzling.

When the kids ran inside to retrieve the buns and condiments, he let himself take a deep breath. Natasha leaned into his side as they sat down at a picnic table at Laura’s insistence. “I tried to warn you.”

“Uh-huh. The one time I don’t take you at your word…”

“_One _time?”

“One time when you’re not also taking orders from Nick Fury.”

“Fair enough.” She pressed a kiss just under his ear. “Seriously, though. Like I said, the first time Clint brought me here I had to sit alone for hours before accepting it wasn’t an elaborately constructed illusion or something.”

“Not gonna argue with idealization. Seems like Clint has a really good thing here.” Although he had expected another joke, he was taken aback when she pulled away from him. “Nat…”

“If this is what you…it’s great for Clint, but if you expect me…”

They were interrupted by Cooper, holding out a ball and two gloves. “I dunno if you’re a leftie or a righty, but…”

Steve didn’t hesitate to escape from Natasha’s sudden mood shift, swinging his leg over the picnic table’s bench. “Um, what do you throw?”

“Right. I’m a first baseman.” Cooper punched his fist into the pocket of a well-worn glove as he grasped a scuffed ball. “I can always grab Dad’s spare glove if you need it.”

Steve didn’t even have to think before replying, “Gimme the other one.” He jogged into what he judged would be left field in the back yard, the glove comfortably soft and broken in on his right hand, as if someone had been using it for some time. He turned, focusing on the boy standing near his distractingly beautiful Aunt. Shaking his head, he shouted, “Show me what you got!”

He loped in a few steps to catch the rainbow lob Cooper had launched with all his strength. Steve was careful to throw the ball back with only enough zip to reach its destination. Cooper caught it with a cheer, raising his glove over his head and calling in a passable announcer-voice, “A strike from Rogers in center and the runner is out!” They got in a few more throws before Laura called them over for burgers.

* * *

Steve leaned against the wall in the upstairs hallway outside Lila’s room as he listened to Natasha read the girl a familiar story that included musical interludes. It was a nice return to sources he recognized; they had watched a DVD of _Mulan_ in the den after dinner, with Lila transfixed on the butt-kicking heroine while Cooper had denied a crush on her that his dad had needled him about. Now Steve found himself humming along as Natasha explained in the Cowardly Lion’s voice what would happen, ‘If I Only Had the Nerve,’ which surprisingly didn’t clash with ‘A Girl Worth Fighting For.’ Why was it so easy to picture Natasha as a mother, tucking in their own children? How was he, Steve, considering their future so concretely?

He forced himself not to jump when someone touched his elbow. He calmly turned to see Laura smiling at him, a laundry basket balanced on her hip. “Enjoying your visit so far?”

“Yeah,” he replied honestly. “I’m so glad to see you and Clint having a life outside of the crazy stuff we usually deal with. It’s so good to know that it’s possible to be, y’know, normal.”

“Normal, right!” She laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “No wonder Nat likes you so much.”

“Was that not the right thing to say?”

“Oh, Steve. I can tell you’re gonna fit in just fine around here.”

“Um, thanks.” He gestured toward the basket, ashamed that he’d let her stand there holding for so long. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’re already doing plenty,” she replied as she walked down the hall, leaving him no opportunity to ask for clarification. This coincided with Natasha telling Lila that she would finish the storybook tomorrow, promising to do the ‘Wizard voice’ when she did. Following an extremely sweet goodnight, the light clicked off before Natasha emerged and closed the door behind her.

Steve held out his hand and led Natasha to the guest room they were sharing. In spite of the pre-lunch tension, they had settled back into their usual dynamic almost the moment his game of catch had ended. They had moved on to some batting practice after lunch with her pitching lazy fastballs to Cooper’s aluminum bat and nearly unhittable curve balls to Steve and the nicked ash one Clint had dug out of a shed for him, claiming he didn’t want to be searching for balls a mile from the house if Steve managed to hit anything with the metal one. The precaution seemed unnecessary when he barely made contact, producing only a few dribblers to the infield and one screamer off the barn behind him.

Steve nuzzled Natasha’s neck as they stepped into the room. “You know that you’re amazing, right?”

“I’ve gotten some feedback that confirms it, yes, but I’d prefer to hear what you’re actually saying.”

He ensured that the door was closed before he crowded her against the wall. “I love you, Natasha.”

“Love you, too,” she replied, pecking his lips. “Anything else you want to say?”

“Um…” He considered the fact that in the past few hours he’d learned that Clint had a family living on a secret farm and Natasha was in on the conspiracy via Fury’s influence. “If I had to submit to some kind of interrogation right now…”

“Ignore the pupil dilation and blood pressure and whatever other nonsense I could be measuring. Besides, you’re always honest anyway. Just tell me how _you_ feel.”

His arms tightened around her as he replied, “I’m happy.”

“Happy because you’re with me or happy because we’re here?”

“Both.” His fingertips danced over the bare skin under her shirt as he turned them and backed her toward the bed. “You really like it here, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s hard to deny the kids, y’know?”

“I don’t actually know, but it’s pretty fun to see you with them. If you’d told me about your expertise with Batman and Legos a few days ago, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.” They landed on the bed as they flopped backward, shifting until they were stretched out with their heads on the pillows, facing one another. He didn’t care about the size of the smaller bed as they held each other, but there was only so much comfort to be gained with something so heavy hanging between them. He decided to bite the bullet. “About earlier, before lunch. I never meant to imply that…”

“I can’t get pregnant, Steve.” She turned her face away, burying it in her pillow, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to stop her. “This will never be an option for us.”

Whatever argument he’d been expecting about her unreadiness to start a family or the impracticality of raising a child with two superhero parents, it hadn’t been… “What?”

Her voice was muffled by the pillow as she said, “They sterilized me during my training in the Red Room, so whatever you’re imagining about buying a property down the road raising and little cousins for Cooper and Lila, you can forget it, unless you find someone else. In fact, you’re probably better off that way.”

“I wasn’t…” Her abrupt withdrawal when he’d mentioned Clint’s ideal life suddenly made sense. He pulled her close, tucking his own face into her pillow. “Oh, Nat. Please don’t think I want anyone but you to make my life complete.”

“But having a family…”

“It’s not important right now. How could I? How could we both risk our lives if we knew we had someone back home depending on us? I mean, I know Clint manages it, but he’s got Laura and…”

She finally turned to look at him. “Yeah, Laura’s amazing.”

“Right. But I wouldn’t expect you to…unless you want…Natasha, please tell me. If a home with kids is something you want, we can make a plan for that, look at adoption or talk to that Korean doctor Tony has been funding or ask Thor’s people if they have a way to…”

“Stop.” Her finger pressed against his lips served to emphasize the undisputable nature of her order. “It is incredibly sweet that you’re willing to move heaven and earth for me, but…I don’t think I could do this.”

He barely caught the laugh before it burst out of him. “Really?”

“What?” she demanded, seemingly offended.

“Nat, you…” He didn’t let her draw back, pulling her against him in a full body embrace. “You know just how to talk to Lila and Cooper and they obviously adore you, so how could you possibly think…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there because being Fun Auntie Nat is a lot different from being Mom or Dad. I don’t have to set limits or punish or do any of the ugly stuff that comes with raising good kids.”

“But you _could_…”

“Steve…”

“Shutting up, ma’am,” he replied.

As he began pulling her shirt over her head, he heard her whisper, “I never tell you to shut up.”

He didn’t answer, in favor of kissing her as he stripped off the rest of her clothes while she did the same for him.

* * *

Steve tried not to grin like a complete idiot as he watched Natasha ride the brown horse (Natasha, Laura and Lila had all explained that a horse with a dark brown coat and black mane and tail was a bay, but he hadn’t yet wrapped his mind around that designation…) Anyway, Natasha was looking amazing as she trotted the brown horse around the Barton’s circular corral, bareback and with a hackamore bridle, whatever that was. Just thirty minutes ago, the animal had been shying away from contact; now she controlled it adroitly, seemingly bending it to her will with subtle movements of the reins and shifts of her hips. Laura stood beside him, smiling and murmuring that she had purchased the mare from the neighbors a few farms over at an ultralow price after they had deemed her unbreakable and unsuitable for breeding. “Shows what they know, since they’ve only got two geldings, anyway, and no intentions of paying for stud services. All she really needs is some attention, because she’s acting like she’s already had some training. I’d feel bad if they had any horse sense or…oh, Lila, wait…”

“Mommy, I just want to…”

Natasha laid the reins against the horse’s neck, causing it to turn away from the gate where Lila was standing with her hand on the latch. “Not yet, sweetheart. Loshada will let you know when she’s ready to let you come near her.”

“Aw, you already named her, Auntie Nat? But I wanted to call her Fluttershy! Now she’s gonna get confused!”

“Don’t worry. I’m just calling her ‘horse,’ with a little flair,” Natasha replied. She trotted Loshada around the ring a few more times before turning back to Lila, “I think she might let the two of us give her a good run, if your Mom says it’s okay.”

Laura eyed the horse suspiciously, in spite of the endorsements she’d just been whispering to Steve. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“If I’m wrong, I’m also Lila’s airbag. You at least trust me that far, right?”

“I’d prefer it not come to that, but…okay.”

When Steve offered to hand Lila directly over the railing to mount the horse a minute and whispered argument later, the little girl was almost vibrating with barely-contained excitement. Loshada’s ears immediately pricked up, twitching backward for a moment. A brief string of cooed Russian from Natasha was all it took to set the horse back at ease. They did a few circles around the corral before Natasha nodded to Laura, who opened the gate with a wide swing.

Loshada burst through in an instant and Lila’s cry sounded like a combination of excitement and fear. Only Natasha’s relaxed posture as the horse galloped toward the open field behind the house prevented Steve from sprinting after them. He turned to Laura, who was frowning and shaking her head. “Not what I would have done.”

“Is that, um, bad for horse training?”

“No. Like I said, that horse already has some training and could use a good workout. I just mean from a ‘Mom’ standpoint. Lila will be fine even if they do have a fall, but…it’s hard to be the responsible party sometimes.”

Steve could only nod knowingly, in spite of the fact that he knew nothing. He didn’t know anything about horses and he’d never seen Natasha as anything _but_ responsible, though he didn’t think Laura was characterizing her as irresponsible in this moment, either. He decided to press a little, “Does Nat do things like this often?”

“She wouldn’t have even suggested a ride if she thought that horse was the least bit out of her control.” Laura nodded firmly in the direction Natasha, Lila and Loshada had taken, although they were no longer visible. “Like I said, it’s just me being…”

A distant high-pitched cheer distracted her. The pounding of hooves on the dirt track preceded the appearance of the horse and her riders. Loshada came to a measured stop when Natasha gently tugged the reins on arrival and Lila practically leapt into her mother’s arms, breathlessly saying, “We have to keep her! She’s the best horse ever! She runs so fast, she can jump so…”

“Slow down, honey. We were always gonna give her a good home, so don’t worry about that. But what’s this about jumping?”

“There was this great big tree that fell down across the path sometime and Loshada just…”

Natasha interrupted, “Wasn’t more than a few feet off the ground. Perfectly safe.”

Laura directed clear side-eyes to both her daughter and the horse before saying, “Uh-huh. I don’t suppose you’re going to be too distracted by Loshada to finish your chores before supper?”

“Can I still have ice cream if I don’t?”

“What’s the rule?”

Lila shifted from one foot to the other before saying, “You have to be responsible for a horse before and after you ride it.”

“Very true,” Laura answered. “Do you think you can feed the goats, clean the rabbit hutch _and_ groom the new horse in time?”

“Um…Auntie Nat was riding the horse, too…” Lila suddenly turned her wide smile at Steve. “Uncle Steve, can you help Auntie Nat groom Loshada while I do my other chores?”

“Uh, I’ve never groomed a horse before…” He found himself unable to deny the little girl, though he had no idea what was being asked of him. “Sure. As long as your Auntie Nat is there to tell me what to do.”

Lila’s enthusiastic agreement was almost overwhelmed by Laura and Natasha’s long-suffering sighs. Less than two minutes later, he found himself pinned against the wooden wall of a stall with roughly a thousand pounds of horse between him and the exit. He rubbed Loshada’s coat with the curry comb he’d been issued, hoping he wasn’t doing anything to upset her.

Although the horse seemed perfectly satisfied with his deep tissue massage, Natasha suddenly appeared beside him (Where had she come from? He had been briefed that ducking under the horse’s neck was a no-no, as was quickly circling behind her without also touching her rump to let her know a person was there, so…) to correct his motion. “Rougher. Not super soldier strong, but you need to put some pressure behind it. You want the hair to…” Loshada whinnied as Steve began to rub the hair against the grain with circular strokes. Natasha nodded with satisfaction. “Right, like that. Go especially hard where I was sitting.”

“Uh…”

“Wherever the most dirt would be ground into her coat. We want her to be as comfortable as possible. Then a hard brush followed by a soft brush. I’ll take care of her hooves.”

Steve spent the next few minutes grooming the horse’s coat as it shifted its weight as Natasha leaned against its various limbs. He finished hard brushing just as Natasha picked a final stone out of Loshada’s right rear shoe. She stood and patted the horse’s rump. “There you go. At least you had a good farrier to take care of your feet, huh? Even if no one rode you, your feet are still healthy, hmm?”

Before Steve could ask how Natasha knew so much about routine horse care, Lila appeared at the door of the stall. “My chores are done! How’s Loshada?”

“I thought you wanted to call her Flutterbye?” Natasha asked, tossing her hoofpick into the nearby plastic bucket.

“Flutter_shy_, Auntie Nat. But I think she already likes Loshada.” The horse chomped down on the carrot Lila offered. “I don’t know why, but she _looks_ like a Loshada.” Lila giggled as the horse nickered as she nosed at the remains of the carrot. “Yeah, Loshada, you love your carrots, huh? Don’t you, girl?”

“I think you’re right, kiddo,” Natasha said, gently ruffling Lila’s hair as she stepped out of the stall and gently closed the door.

Steve continued brushing the horse with the soft brush as Lila fed her carrots. He wasn’t sure when he’d been left alone in the barn with the little girl, but he found that was the case when he looked up from brushing Loshada’s coat to a smooth shine. After feeding the horse the final bit of carrot, Lila looked up at him and asked, “Uncle Steve, will you hold me up so I can brush Loshada’s mane?”

For all of his military, undercover and tactical training, nothing had prepared him for a child holding up a wide-toothed comb with an expectant look. “Um…” He glanced around, but Natasha was talking to someone just outside the barn doors and the only other witness was a disinterested tabby cat. Making a snap judgement, he unhooked the stall door to let Lila in. “Sure.”

Neither she nor the horse reacted when he picked Lila up to let her comb the hair along the top of the horse’s neck. Lila kept up a running monologue of compliments about Loshada’s ‘pretty hair’ and ‘smooth coat’ that he could only reply in monosyllabic grunts. He eventually set her down so she could run out of the stall to wash up for dinner.

When he eventually looked up from a few last brushes of Loshada’s coat, Natasha was leaning against the stall door, her arms folded on it. “Hey, soldier.”

“Um, hi.” He waved toward the horse. “Are you planning to criticize my grooming job?”

“Nah, she looks happy. I was actually gonna ask if you had cavalry experience on top of your time in the infantry.”

For the first time since walking into the stall, Steve started to feel comfortable. “Y’know, Romanoff…”

“Oh, I know, Uncle Steve.”

He only chased her up to the hayloft after ensuring Loshada’s stall was firmly latched.


End file.
